Afterwards
by calicoskies4ever
Summary: What does one think about after something unthinkable happens? How does one begin to understand when that unthinkable something happens over and over again? Does it ever become, normal? That is, to ask, could someone ever become used to that.


Afterwards

What does one think about after something unthinkable happens? How does one begin to understand when that unthinkable something happens over and over again? Does it ever become, normal? That is, to ask, could someone ever become used to something like that? Or, does it always rip one to pieces?

My usual disclaimers, non-con Luthorcest

It's over. The thought raced through Lex's mind as soon as the deed was done, but he knew better. Lionel may have finished with the task at hand, but things were far from over. Lex felt his heart pounding in his chest as he collapsed onto the bed. The sheets, they weren't quiet white, a combination of years of washing, and what was on the cloth itself, had turned them what someone might call off-white. Lionel moved on the bed. The first time this had happened, Lex had thought his father was getting up. After all, everything had been taken care of, why would anyone stay?

Now he knew better. He had come to understand that his father fed on his fear and pain more than the actual sex act. Lionel wanted to see the panic in the boy's eyes every time he entered his room. He often pulled the boy into his arms afterwards. An outsider, one who hadn't seen the previous scene, might think of Lionel's actions as soothing, or comforting, but they would have been wrong. Lex knew that his father enjoyed holding his son because it meant he could feel the boy's heart pounding against his chest. Sometimes, in his weaker moments, Lex cried. He hated himself for that. It wasn't right. This pain, this humiliation, this degradation, all of it beyond belief, it wasn't fair. The boy felt his father's arms as Lionel reached down to pull his son close. Please stop, he thought to himself, but his father didn't hear him, or didn't bother to listen.

"Shh," he said in a soft voice. The voice was falsely kind. It was the voice that Lionel used when he wanted to provide the exact opposite effect. A kind voice, his mother's for example, was calming, and soothing. A kind voice was comforting. A kind voice made pain go away. A kind voice wasn't supposed to make you cry. "There, there," he said, softly kissing the smooth top of his son's head. Lex squeezed his eyes shut, trying to avoid his father's gaze.

"I'm fine," he managed at last, choking on the words. All that the boy wanted was for this man, this monster, to leave. If he would just get out of here, Lex thought, but his mind was interrupted. Lionel's hand had crept down below the boy's waist. "Please," he said quietly, more to his body than to the hand. "Don't, please, no," he whispered.

"This doesn't have to be something bad, Lex. You could enjoy if you would just let yourself," he spoke directly into his son's ear. Lex felt the tears and almost managed to hold them back. In the end it didn't matter. Lionel felt the change in his son's heart rhythm. He felt Lex struggling to hold everything inside. His hands moved, now on the boy's shoulders and massaged softly.

"Dad," Lex said quietly. It was all he had left inside of him. Then the tears came, at least, he thought, he was going to be able to remain silent. Every so often, silent tears were allowed. Once in a while he wouldn't be chastised, for that. Lionel knew that his son was emotional, and sometimes that couldn't be changed. As long as no one knew, didn't see, or hear, that was the best Lex could do.

"Oh, no that is really uncalled for," Lionel said as the boy tried to move away. He pulled Lex's body closer, feeling the wet face against his chest. "Just calm down, Son," he said, patting the boy's back. "There we are," he said as Lex's heart returned to normal. His breathing had begun to slow, and Lionel knew he would soon be asleep. "That's a good boy," he whispered, and lowered his son to the bed. Lex waited until he heard the door close. He strained his ears making sure that his father was gone, and then he started to sob.

He rolled to his side and curled up into a ball. "Why does he have to do that," he asked his pillow. "Why can't he just leave?" Lex allowed his body to shake. He no longer needed to maintain control. Lionel was gone and he was alone, for now.

"That's a good boy," the voice sent shivers down his spine. His father may have left the room, but he was not gone. Lionel's spirit would remain until long after the boy had cried himself to sleep. It would continue to whisper into his ear, in that cruel and sickeningly sweet voice.

"Just fuck off," Lex whispered into the darkness. "Just fuck off already."


End file.
